I spend far too much time hoping life will prove me right about things.
However, long-term vindication works both ways. I remember Mrs A, who had boys ahead of us at school, telling my mother she would have no idea what stress was until her children went through public exams. This seemed self-centred at the time. My mum was teaching full time, head of a small school. I think she was pregnant with her sixth child.
Well, Mrs A, decades later, I finally understand. This week my sixteen-year-old received his GCSE results.
But they were good. He can move on to the next stage (A levels) with new privileges: no uniform; private study sessions; the ability to sign himself on and off campus; and a sixth form centre for studying and relaxing. I think he’ll love it.
Writing-wise, I’m somewhere between 80 and 90% through my draft. I’m adding a ski holiday, inspiration that came as I tried to find air and shade in the last heatwave. True escapism.